


Un Muy Feliz Cumpleaños

by curlypeakism



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 08:58:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15770841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlypeakism/pseuds/curlypeakism
Summary: Miguelito turns nine! (With some help from Tio Hector, Imelda, and Nesto of course.) Set in Teacher!AU.





	Un Muy Feliz Cumpleaños

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Way You Keep Me Guessing: Coco Teacher AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13547295) by [death_frisbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/death_frisbee/pseuds/death_frisbee), [im_fairly_witty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_fairly_witty/pseuds/im_fairly_witty). 



> so i was given this idea by a guest (i think) named jasmine who this fic is gifted to! imelda didn't turn up in this part/chapter, so i owe u some imector! don't let me forget :)
> 
> in other news, i'm really considering outlining a reverse!au fic (au where hector is the one who dreams of being a musician and miguel is the one who died under mysterious circumstances and is trying to get somebody to remember him), but im leaving for college on sunday so!!!

Ernesto de La Cruz did _not_ function without his solid eight hours of sleep. But he also had lived with Hector Rivera for most of his adult life, so he could usually snore through whatever snack-searching or songwriting that his partner got into at all hours.

However, what sounded like _blowing up balloons_ was completely out of the question.

He pushed the eye mask off his face and looked over at the alarm clock, which happily glowed back at him with _4:31 a.m._ Sighing deeply, he got out of bed, slipping on his houseshoes and robe to investigate what the hell had possessed his roommate.

 _Sí, claro que sí._ Hector was sitting cross legged on the floor of the living room, blowing up what appeared to be a red balloon with a luchador mask face on it. He was buried nearly to his chest in a sea of balloons like it in other colors.

“Hector, what the _hell-?_ ” Ernesto began to hiss at full volume.

“ _Shhh! Silencio,_ you’ll wake up Miguel!”

Ernesto took a deep breath, and rubbed his fingers across his brow - as much as his dermatologist told him _not_ to, his dermatologist also didn’t live with a Hector who didn’t understand how stress encouraged breakouts and premature wrinkles. Then he dropped his voice to a whisper.

“Please explain to me _why_ you are blowing up luchador balloons in our living room at four-thirty in the morning.”

Hector gave him an incredulous look. “It is Miguel’s birthday? He’s nine today? He hasn’t stopped talking about it since March?”

Hm. So it was April 1st, already.

“I want to make it _really_ special this year. Since Quique and Luisa aren’t here. I _have_ to.” Hector continued in a hushed voice, looking down to tie off the end of the balloon in his hand and add it to the sea around him.

Despite himself, Ernesto felt his expression softening. Maybe, just this once, his sleep wasn’t the most important thing in the world. Just this once, though. He outstretched a hand.

“Well, give me a balloon, then, _amigo._ You’re lucky that I’ve been blessed with superior lung capacity.”

* * *

“ _Miguel!”_

The little boy made a sound of disagreement, and attempted to rouse himself in a sea of _fútbol-_ covered sheets and the action figures that he totally didn’t sleep with - they just happened to end up there. “Tío Hector, it’s so _earlyyyy…._ ”

“I think you’ll wanna open your eyes, kid.” Hmm. Ernesto never woke him up. The lump stopped rolling around. “ _Wait…_ ”

“IT’S MY **_BIRTHDAY!_ ** ”

Miguel sat up, wide awake in an instant. His tío was grinning brightly, shadowed by a tired looking, yet still half-smiling Ernesto. His messy bedroom floor had been covered by a sea of balloons and a banner had been taped by the door, pieces of old sheet music with black sharpie spelling out, “ _Feliz noveno cumpleaños!”_

Miguel practically sprang straight from his bed to around Hector’s neck. “This is the best birthday _ever!_ ” He exclaimed, muffled in his tio’s shirt. The older man’s eyes widened.

The best?

“It’s barely started yet, _chamaco_ .” Hector chuckled, pulling Miguel closer to him. “But, _gracías,_ Miguel _._ ”

Ernesto crossed his arms a bit, smiling at the tender scene. One more good thing he’d done to list that night.  



End file.
